


Oct 5: Blood

by MadhouseVagabond



Series: Scarefest Challenges 2017 [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, FAHC, FYRTFF Scarefest Challenge 2017, Gen, Gore, Graphic Violence, Horror, Inner Demons, Jeremy is the best friend, Pain, Poor Ryan, Scarefest, Vagabond, implied Jeremwood, struggle with inner demons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 15:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12278988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadhouseVagabond/pseuds/MadhouseVagabond
Summary: The Vagabond is the most feared person in Los Santos. But what does he fear?





	Oct 5: Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of bad stuff and gore in this. Don't read if that disturbs you!

The Vagabond, Los Santos' most feared and deadly mercenary, a ruthless killer who showed no mercy to his or his Crew's enemies; emotionless, cold. This was the life Ryan Haywood lived, ever since he'd made his first kill when he was fourteen.

He loved it. The looks of fear that crossed people's faces when they recognized him, the respect that stemmed from that fear, the hesitation from other gangs and crews when they had him in their sights. He especially loved that his Crew feared him, in a good way. They knew what he was capable of for the most part and where the lines he drew for them were, so they respected his privacy out of fear.

But Ryan had a secret he never shared with the others, one that had haunted him ever since he'd joined the Fake AH Crew. His secret was always at the back of his mind, nagging at him constantly, whispering to him.

He was afraid he'd lose control. That he would turn on his Crew like the mad dog he'd heard people call him on occasion.

Ryan lay in his bed, trying desperately to get some sleep, hoping this wouldn't be another sleepless night, the tenth one this month so far. He closed his eyes and forced his body to relax, darkness finally overtaking him as he drifted away. But his sleep was far from peaceful.

He heard a noise and opened his eyes, looking around the room, one hand slipping under his pillow to grip the bone handle of his favorite sheath knife that Jeremy had given him last Christmas. Silence filled the room but Ryan narrowed his eyes. In his experience that was never a good sign, nor one to be trusted. He stood and picked up the skull mask resting on his bedside table and slowly stalked to his bedroom door.

Opening the door he noticed that Gavin's bedroom door, caddie corner to his was open slightly. He growled quietly and slinked to the lad's door, ready to kill whatever was in the room with his friend. He'd long since made a vow to keep the others in his Crew safe and alive at all costs, knowing that he was the strongest. He pushed open the door and quietly slunk into the room, staying in darkness walking silently. A strange smell filled his nostrils and he felt sick when he recognized it.

Blood. Blood and death.

He flicked on the small closet light and took a deep breath before looking. He grimaced at the sight, pain clawing at his chest. The wall where the headboard of Gavin's bed was pressed up against was coated thick with blood, the liquid gushing down the wall, the bed itself in a similar state. Gavin lay on the bed, dead, his throat cut open and his bare chest lying in two flaps spread out to his sides, bones and organs exposed. Ryan gagged and closed his eyes, hoping it was just another hallucination, like the ones he'd seen all throughout his life, but when he opened his eyes the horrific scene remained.

Dashing out of the room he ran to Michael's room, finding the lad hacked to pieces and spread across the floor like some fucked up lab experiment! Ryan ran to Jack's room, the door to the left of his. The gent lay on the bed, a pillow over his face that was crimson with his blood from an obvious gunshot, his feet removed and placed on the ends of his bed posts, his fingers hacked off and placed lined up on either side of the gent's corpse.

Ryan shook his head and felt tears sting his eyes. It was horrible! He walked slowly to Geoff's room, dreading what he'd find there. Opening the door Ryan sobbed when he saw the gent hanging from the ceiling, a chain wrapped around his neck, his body cut in two, wrists slit to help drain the blood now soaking the floor. Ryan fell to his knees and cried. What happened? How could an intruder do this without tripping an alarm, or waking him up? His head snapped up when he suddenly realized something.

Where was Jeremy?

Ryan scrambled to his feet and charged down the hall to Jeremy's room, bursting through the door. With a cry of surprise he saw that the lad wasn't there, no signs of a struggle, no blood stains or traces, nothing. He was just gone. With a small ounce of hope filling him Ryan rushed into the hall and headed towards the living room and kitchen, knowing Jeremy occasionally liked to sneak some late night snacks or warm up a cup of hot chocolate. This had started once on one of Ryan's many sleepless nights when he'd accidentally woken up the lad as he looked for something to eat, the smaller man sitting with him on the couch, silently playing video games. Ryan enjoyed the company, Jeremy never asking questions unless a conversation started. He was simply there, and he and Ryan soon made a habit of meeting on the couch or in the kitchen whenever they couldn't sleep.

Ryan hoped that's where the lad was now, hiding from whatever intruder had broken in and murdered their Crew one by one, or that he'd escaped and left a clue for Ryan to follow. When he entered the living room all was still and quiet, the Xbox was off and the two table lamps they usually turned on were also dormant. Ryan was about to heave a sigh of relief when he noticed a faint light coming from the kitchen. His heart began to race and he felt something he wasn't used to feeling as he slowly approached. Fear.

Closing his eyes and silently begging that it wasn't Jeremy, that the lad was safe somewhere else, Ryan took several breaths before rounding the corner. He opened his eyes and his heart shattered. Jeremy was lying there on the floor, holding his hands to his abdomen as he coughed up blood. Ryan fell to his knees beside the lad with a cry of anguish and gently lifted his head into his lap.

"Jeremy! Fuck, what happened? I'm going to get you out of here!" he cried. Jeremy looked up at Ryan and a strange look crossed the lad's face. It was a look of both fear and sadness.

"R-Ryan..." he choked, voice weak. He looked down and Ryan followed his gaze, heart stopping at what he saw. Where Jeremy clutched at his abdomen he could clearly make out the bone handle of his favorite knife.

"No!" Ryan screamed as tears filled his eyes. How could this be? He'd been holding the knife all evening hadn't he?

"Jeremy, did..did I do this?" he asked, his voice shaking. Jeremy looked at him for a moment and then opened his mouth, tears streaming down his face.

"Why'd you do it Ry?" he asked. Ryan sobbed and shook his head, tears running down his cheeks.

"No! It can't..I could never..oh fuck Jeremy I'm sorry!" he sputtered. The lad winced in pain and a small cry that cut Ryan to his core escaped his lips.

"It hurts so much Ryan!" he gasped.

"Please don't die Jer! I'll get help! Please don't die! I promise I'll leave and never come back again if you live! I'll go far away so I can never hurt you again, Jeremy please!" Ryan begged as he cradled the lad to him, hugging him and not caring that Jeremy's blood was soaking him. Jeremy weakly raised a hand and placed it tenderly on Ryan's cheek, looking up into the gent's eyes.

"I'm sorry Ryan. I'm sorry I never asked you what was wrong, if anything was bothering you, or if you needed to talk. I'm sorry buddy. I don't blame you for this," he said. Ryan cried harder as he held Jeremy, watching as the lad gave one last weak smile, one of his cocky ones Ryan had grown to love over the years, before the life left his eyes and he went limp in Ryan's arms.

An unearthly howl of pain ripped itself from Ryan's throats as he looked to the ceiling and shut his eyes, trying to erase the scenes from his vision. He cried harder than he'd ever cried in his life. His worst nightmare had finally come true.

The Vagabond had turned on his Crew. The whispers people exchanged were true, he was just a mad dog that finally broke free of his chains. His friends, his family, murdered by him! Ryan looked down at Jeremy, his beautiful face pale, but the smile still remained. Ryan gently picked up the lad and carried him to his room, laying him on his bed and pulling a sheet up and over the body's face. He stared at Jeremy's corpse for a long time, willing the life back into him and swearing to every deity he could think of he'd change his ways if Jeremy and the others would come back. Looking down at himself he gave a strangled sob at the sight of Jeremy's blood covering him.

He looked at his hands and saw Jeremy's blood there too, a mocking reminder of what Ryan truly was. A vicious, heartless murderer. Ryan collapsed to his knees and buried his face in the blankets of the bed beside Jeremy, the voices of his Crew screaming in his mind, calling his name.

Ryan.

Ryan.

"Ryan!"

Ryan bolted upright, holding his favorite bone knife he kept under his pillow tightly and at the ready. He was sweating and his heart was racing, his eyes wild like a hunted animal as he scanned the room. His eyes fell on Jeremy, standing a foot away looking at him with concern. Ryan's eyes widened and he paled, dropping the knife and letting a small cry of surprise and relief escape him.

"Jeremy?" he asked. The lad looked confused but concerned for his friend as he sat down and brought Ryan in for a hug, surprised when the gent clung to him tightly and began to sob.

"Ryan, what's wrong? I heard you from my room, you sounded like you were in pain. Are you okay?" he asked as he squeezed Ryan and rubbed his back comfortingly. Ryan couldn't speak for a minute, so scared that if he did speak it would all go away, and Jeremy would be dead again.

"No, I'm not okay," he finally said in a soft broken voice, shaking his head. Jeremy tensed and squeezed Ryan again.

"Hey, it's okay now, I'm here. It's going to be okay Rye Bread," he said. Ryan felt himself trembling and knew he needed to tell Jeremy. After a few minutes the two separated, but Ryan held onto Jeremy's hands like they were his lifeline.

"Do you wanna get some hot chocolate and talk about it on the couch?" Jeremy asked gently. He bit his lip, knowing Ryan liked his privacy and hated talking about how he felt, a line he'd become well aware of in his time as a Fake member and swore never to cross. But seeing Ryan in this state absolutely terrified him and he knew something must be horribly wrong for Ryan to be acting this way. Concern outweighed his caution as he waited patiently for Ryan to answer, the gent keeping his gaze down.

"Yes," Ryan finally said, and that's all Jeremy needed. He lifted Ryan's head by the chin with his thumb and finger, and looked straight into the piercing blue eyes.

"Okay, we'll take as long as you need, even it'll it takes all night," he said as he stood slowly, pulling Ryan along with him. Before he could turn to go Ryan pulled him into another hug and held him like he was afraid to let go. Jeremy let Ryan hold him as long as he needed to, the gent finally uttering a soft phrase.

"Thank you Jer Bear." Jeremy smiled and nodded his head against Ryan's muscular chest.

"Anything for you Rye Bread. Now, let's get that hot chocolate," he said as Ryan separated from him. Ryan nodded and the two walked to the kitchen, hand in hand.


End file.
